


My Mind Says Prepare 2 Fight

by fangirlSevera



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Action, First Kiss, M/M, New Year's Eve, Violence, Y2K scare, cyber terror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Year's Even 1999, and a group of cyber terrorists want to make sure that panic over the Y2K computer problem continues well into the next millennium.</p><p>Kingsman's top agents are not about to let that happen, even if Harry  would rather be counting down to midnight under less stressful circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Mind Says Prepare 2 Fight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raven_rising](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_rising/gifts).



> This is my fic gift to [ravenrising](http://ravenrising.tumblr.com/) for the [Merlahad Secret Santa](http://merlahad.tumblr.com). I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Some other notes: I realize that some readers may be too young (or not around) to remember the Y2K Scare. I wasn't sure how much detail I needed to get into for the sake of clarity. Also I am neither a computer expert (I'd _just_ be getting into the swing of using PCs and the Internet back in the late 90s) nor an expert on the layout and facilities of the Christmas Island Airport, especially not as it would have been 16 years ago.
> 
> Title is lyrics from Prince's classic: [1999](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdu_fX-QD8s)

If anyone asked Harry Hart what his ideal way to spend New Year's Eve would be, stuck on a tropical island with the man he adored most in the world would be well near the top of the list of Ideal Situations.

Unless of course the person suggesting the holiday was Arthur.

But then again it wasn't even a suggestion, nor a holiday. It was an order and a mission.

In the past couple years, Merlin had tried to explain to Harry multiples time the essence of the “Year 2000 Problem,” and what he was doing to fix it. But it was all Greek to Harry. Well, he spoke Greek, so it was more like Tagalog to him. The issue of only using the last two digits of a year in coding seemed like it should have been a preventable problem, especially by these scientists who were clever and supposedly had more foresight than most. 

The world’s increasing reliance on computer systems meant people began to panic over the suggestion of a massive world-wide systems crash. If it occurred, certain people seemed to believe, it would bring about some form of apocalypse. Merlin had assured Arthur and all Kingsman personnel that their systems were upgraded and had nothing to worry about on their end. He also assured them that the computer science community as a whole had discovered workarounds and the world at large had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Of course there were always people in the world who wanted panic, who for some goddamned reason _wanted_ to bring about the apocalypse. 

Kingsman had gotten wind of the plot right after Christmas. A bunch of anti-technology doomsayers had a member who was a former programmer for the United States Department of Defense. Someone who had become sickened by the increasing use of computer-guided weapons wreaking havoc across the globe: governments decimating countries without risk to themselves, screens and buttons distancing policy makers from human consequences.

This disgruntled programmer’s apparent hope was that if all systems were to go down on Christmas Island, communications to the rest of world abruptly cut off right at the stroke of midnight, January 1st in the year 2000, it would the send globe into the throes of paranoia and panic.

“Thereby making the planet instantly abandon its trust in all technology?” Harry had incredulously asked at their briefing.

“His ultimate goal is definitely a bit… Ambitious. But people will get hurt nonetheless. At the very least, right there on the island,” Arthur had pointed out.

Out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Christmas Island was to be the first plot of civilisation to see the start of the new millennium. When the takeover of its small airport began, Harry and Merlin had to keep a low profile, "cowering" behind the service counter so they could slip away later, unnoticed. But when one of the hostage-takers whacked a woman in the head with the butt of his AK-47, Harry 's body began to move in righteous indignation. Thankfully, Merlin was there, being Harry's mind when it could not catch up with his instincts. Merlin grasped Harry's elbow. "We cannot show our hand," Merlin whispered harshly. "If they start using the other ends of their guns, then we take action."

He was right of course. The poor woman would survive the bruise to the head. If Harry started a fight now, the plan could be in shambles. So he stayed next to Merlin on the floor, shoulders pressed together. Merlin kept his briefcase clasped to his chest, giving off the appearance of a frightened everyman. It allowed for Harry to keep a hand on his shoulder, playing the comforting friend. It was cheap, but _any_ chance to get his hands on Merlin was a bonus in Harry's book.

When the group of civilians had proved to be cooperative to their captors, the men with guns lessened their guard: grips on the guns relaxing, occasionally turning their eyes away to speak to each other. There was only half an hour until midnight. It was now or never. Harry took off his glasses and set them up on the ticket counter.

Harry and Merlin shifted silently, keeping to a low crawl. One woman, two small children held against her under each arm, noticed. Harry pressed a finger to his lips and winked at her. She nodded, wide-eyed, and held her children purposefully closer, ignoring the two men now.

Most of the ski-masked terrorists were in the open area of the departure lounge with the hostages. The gift shop and offices had been emptied of staff and customers. The way to their destination, the traffic control tower, had only a couple guards pacing the hallways. They were dispatched quietly, easily snuck upon. Merlin swung his briefcase into the head of one, and Harry was able to take another down from behind with a choke-hold. 

The guard in front of the elevator was not going be taken out quite as discreetly. There was no way for them to approach him without being seen. Harry removed his gun from his jacket and screwed on the silencer. He took a centering breath and turned the corner, walking in full view. "Galahad, what are you-" Merlin tried.

The guard immediately brought his gun to bear. "Hello, there!" Harry greeted him cheerfully, pace never faltering. He held his gun behind his back. "I seem to have gotten lost in all the ruckus." 

The guard frowned and his trigger finger twitched. "Not one more-" he warned, but Harry kept walking forward. In one smooth motion, stride never breaking, he whipped his pistol out and shot the man with a dart to the neck. The guard collapsed to the ground, eyes rolling back.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Merlin asked, coming up beside him.

"My aim with sleep darts is shit. Had to get closer to properly hit him, didn't I?"

Merlin huffed. "Maybe _your_ aim."

"Never mind now, it all turned out for the best." Harry knew Merlin was a better shot than him, and maybe he could have hit the target from the other end of the hall. But he also knew Merlin was less and less in the field and well... Harry wasn't going risk Merlin breaking cover if he didn't have to. After all, he was the only one who actually needed to get into the control tower to complete the mission.

Merlin shook his head. He took a palm-sized, black square from his briefcase and fit it over the security pad by the elevator doors. The device trilled, red lights blinking in rapid succession, until slowing. The lights blinked over the placements of the buttons, entering the code it had just unlocked. 

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Merlin grinned, pocketing his gadget. He gestured for Harry to step inside. 

Harry undid his silencer, grateful for the extra weight on his gun to be gone. Merlin removed his own weapon, one hand still around his briefcase. The doors slid open with another "bing!" The sound was bound to draw attention. Sure enough, the four men occupying the small control room all turned at once, more than one rising from their seats. The Kingsmen opened fire, making quick work of the terrorists with their tranq rounds.

The airport on Christmas Island had only one runway. Typically there wasn't much traffic at all. Therefore, the control room reflected its meager needs. Plugged into a bank of controls and monitors was a laptop. Code was running across the screen as Harry and Merlin approached. On the floor was a man about forty years of age with glasses and oily blond hair. Harry recognized him from the files: Their disillusioned DoD programmer.

Merlin kicked him aside to slide into the chair he had been occupying. Merlin’s eyes scanned the numbers and letters scrolling down the computer screen. His frown deepened as he read it. He popped open the briefcase again and took out a small plastic tube with a square metal tip. He jammed into a port in the side of the laptop and started typing. 

Merlin’s long fingers danced across the keyboard like the legs of a frantic, pale spider. Perhaps it was a comparison some might think unkind, but was not at all in Harry’s mind. It made him think of quick, efficient deadliness. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Harry said, moving away to stop hovering over Merlin’s shoulder. He went about his own work: dragging the five men together into one row. He dug around Merlin’s briefcase and came up with several lengths of thin rope made of a new, indestructible polymer to bind the cyberterrorists wrists and ankles.

Behind him, Merlin swore. “Problem?” Harry asked casually, not as if only worst-case scenarios could inspire such profanity from his friend. 

“The virus is designed to take out all the systems here at the airport, just as we surmised. Also, as we feared, it has been spread over the Internet to other places all over the island, probably making its way to power stations and the like. But, I was prepared for that.”

“What were you _not_ prepared for?”

“The last plane to have left this airport? It’s in that system as well.” His fingers kept furiously tapping. “It looks like it will remain dormant on that plane until the malicious program goes live _here_ at midnight. This computer, running on its own power supply, and magnificently efficient one at that, I must add. I’ve never seen a mobile computer’s battery life be this strong…”

“The virus on the plane?” Harry prompted, lest Merlin got distracted by whatever sort of amazing technological breakthrough he was encountering.

“The computer here is tracking the time zones the plane is currently in, so that the virus won’t activate in it until it is midnight in that time zone. When that happens, either that plan is going to fall out of the sky, or it will spread the infection through the airport it is sitting in at the time.” 

“One small country losing power at midnight is a glitch. A second country is a full scale problem.”

“Or aeroplanes dropping. Definitely could cause panic, ground the entire world.” Merlin’s hands left the keyboard. His hands curled into fists, knuckles cracking.

“But you can stop it.” Harry’s conviction kept it from being a question.

Merlin licked his lips, and finally glanced up at Harry, determination and confidence glinting in his green eyes. “Aye.” He straightened his back and started typing again, only to suddenly jerk backwards.

“What is it? Boobytrap?”

“No. It’s your glasses feed.” The pair Harry left behind was still running its visual and audio, streaming into Merlin’s glasses as small screen inside his own lenses. “Our absence has been noticed. Their firing only into the air for now, but hostages are screaming.”

Harry was torn for a moment. He needed to stay where he was, watch Merlin’s six, make sure the man’s crucial work wasn't interrupted. But he also had scared innocents facing increasing threats. “Go on, Galahad. They need you more than I.”

He gave Merlin's shoulder an encouraging squeeze and ran to the elevator. He kept running after the doors opened to the main floor. The men they had taken out earlier were still out cold, littering the floor. Thank goodness. The angry shouts of the terrorists and terrified screams of the hostages echoed down the white halls.

Harry holstered his gun in the small of his back, under his jacket. He straightened his suit, and put his hands up, palms open as he stepped out into the lounge. “We’re you looking for me?”

The terrorist did not let go of the young woman in an airport uniform he had been screaming and waving his gun at. He kept one hand at the back of her neck as he turned his gun to point at Harry. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding the facilities. I would have asked, but you gentlemen appeared occupied, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Where is your friend?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Alas, I have no friends. You know how it is when you’re dedicated to your work.”

The terrorist swung his gun back around, pointing it at the woman’s head. She whimpered, tears running down her red face as she repeatedly pleaded, “Please, please, oh please no.” 

“You tell me or she dies! They all die!” His six cohorts were standing in front of the the whole group of hostages, guns pointed at ready.

Harry sighed again. “Well, if you’re going to be that way…” He brought his arms down and forward with a quick snap, a pair of throwing knives ejecting from his sleeves and into his hands. The one from his right hand ended up in the jugular of the man who had been talking to him. Blood sprayed onto the woman in his hands. She screamed and dove back into the crowd. At the same time, the knife from his left hand went into the wrist of the next nearest terrorist who dropped his weapon with a wailed curse. 

The remaining five turned their weapons away from the crowd and targeted him, opening fire. Harry brought up his left arm to cover his head as the hail of bullets landed ineffectively against his bespoke suit. He grabbed the gun from his waistband and returned fire. He had switched out the darts for live rounds while on his way back down in the elevator.

He took out two more men with bullets to the knees. The hostages started screaming even more, some starting to get up and run. It made shooting more difficult for Harry, as civilians in their hysterics blocked his shots more than once. 

At least one airport employee was trying to take lead and direct people towards the exits and away from the fight. Harry still had to push past some people after he abandoned the gun, knowing the only way to avoid shooting a civilian was to not use it at all and take out the last three men by other means.

He ducked the next spray of bullets, dropping into a crouch and tripped the man over with a low spinning sweep. The terrorist landed on his back, and when Harry jumped back to his feet, he stomped on the man’s chest, guaranteeing he stayed down with a couple broken ribs.

Then there were two.

“I got this. Go check on the boss!” A rather large masked man told the other standing terrorist. The large one advanced on Harry, the other dashed away in the direction of the elevator. Harry swore under his breath. The large man brought a tree-limb arm down on Harry. He was able to block the blow, but the force alone knocked him off balance. 

Harry activated his signet ring and balled his hand. He took a swing, and as he predicted, the other man grabbed Harry’s fist, but in doing so, electrocuted himself. His entire body shuddered and shook before collapsing to the ground, still twitching.

Harry rolled his shoulders. He looked around. The room was empty save for the fallen bodies: six terrorists and a couple hostages who had been hit by stray gunfire. But they were sitting up, hands grabbing at nonfatal wounds. Everyone else evacuated and he could hear sirens in the distance. 

Then he remembered the final terrorist. The one running right to where Merlin was! Harry sprinted back down the halls, flying over the prone bodies like a hurdle-jumper. He skidded around the last corner just in time to see the elevator doors close. 

There were emergency access stairs nearby locked with another code, and Harry was without Merlin's handy hacking gadget. He loaded his shotgun round and fired at the lock. The alarm system be damned at this point, he thought as klaxons blared. He reloaded quickly, then shot twice more to take out the hinges. He kicked down the mutilated door and puffed up the winding staircase. He would worry about not breathing as easily as he used to at another time.

When he reached the top of the stairs the bang of his shouldering the door open coincided with the sound of a fired gun. His heart hammering even faster than the exertion the stairs caused, Harry looked into the room expecting the worst. 

The last terrorist was down on the ground, a clean bullet hole in the center of his head. Merlin was still seated at his station, one arm outstretched behind him with the gun still smoking. The other hand continued to furiously tap away at the laptop.

Harry’s relief only lasted a moment for he glanced up at the atomic clock that was hanging high up on the wall in the control room. It was less than a minute until midnight and Merlin was still working. With only 10 seconds left to spare Merlin suddenly jumped up shouting “Gotcha, you buggering bastards!”

Eight seconds to midnight: Merlin spun around, smile wide with pride, eyes shining with victory.

7…

Harry heaved out a breath, ending on a chuckle and

6…

stepped forward.

5…

Someone from the corner groaned.

4… 

Merlin’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes became curious as

3…

Harry stopped directly in front of him.

2…

Harry grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and pulled

1…

Merlin against him, crushing their lips together.

Merlin made a small noise, half questioning. Only half, because the way one of his hands came around Harry’s back, and how he tilted his head to deepen the kiss meant his body knew exactly what was going on, even if his brain hadn’t quite caught up.

“Happy New Year!” Harry declared, stepping back but keeping his hands on Merlin.

“Yes it is,” Merlin agreed.

The sirens from earlier were closer, lights flashed outside the control room windows. “Perhaps we should continue our celebrations elsewhere,” Merlin suggested.

“Fortunately there’s a fully functional casino and hotel only two kilometres from here that will be celebrating well into dawn thanks to you.”

“Thanks to us.”

“I’ll drink to that, once we have sinfully expensive champagne in our hands. And seeing that the authorities will soon be upon us...” Harry loaded the last of his shotgun shells and shot out one of the window panes. He started pulling grappling line from his belt. “After you.”

Merlin smirked, readying his own hook and line. “Very gracious.”

“Aren’t I always?”

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin uses a flash drive, and Harry doesn't recognize what it is. That's because flash drives were not commercially available until 2000. Merlin being Merlin of course has a few already.
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone!


End file.
